


Royal

by Dank_keroppi_13



Category: Original Work
Genre: :D, Angst, Astral Projection, Death, Gay, Hero's Journey, Hozier, Humor, Journey, M/M, Medieval, Original Fiction, Original work - Freeform, Royalty, Soup, Wizards, cumin, gay angst, gay fluff, hit or miss i guess the siren never misses huh, i really liked writing this, long story short hozier is in this but it's, mae is baby, neglect tw, nick is my bastard baby boy. what a little shit, not him, prince - Freeform, sam is baby, soup time, this is a meme, what is this, what is this business, why, with guitars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-08 06:29:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18889051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dank_keroppi_13/pseuds/Dank_keroppi_13
Summary: A teenage prince, Nicholas, yearns to escape his neglectful parents and his role in society. With his best friend(more?) Sam Hearth by his side, he travels to find an astral-projecting wizard.There's an incredibly...what's the word? An incredibly murderous girl they meet along the way, but is she as lustful for blood as she seems?Every single character is Baby.I know, it's ridiculous. But I had fun writing it.





	Royal

I am, regretfully, a prince. Always have been, always will be. I’ll admit, I’ve been spoiled. Approximately three million people know my name and have to bow to me. My crown is laden with rubies and citrine. I have everything.  
Just kidding. There’s always a catch.  
I haven’t talked to my mother and father in months. I don’t have friends. I outrank everyone who used to be one.  
That sort of thing messes up a guy, you know?  
I’ve had a question lately. It keeps getting answered, every day, every action they take.  
Am I just another tool to keep my family in power?A member of a dynasty and not an individual?  
It’s looking more and more likely.

It’s a summer evening, but the seasons have stopped mattering. I briskly walk down a wide hallway. It drips with purple velvet and mahogany, and we have 149 others. My footsteps echo around me.  
“Sir!”  
I turn around, jumping into attack stance. I’m very proud of my reflexes.  
The servant yelps.  
“Oh. Sorry, Sam.”  
He bows, concerningly low, his blond hair covering his face. Is he going to fall over?  
“My deepest and humblest apologies. Sir, the good King Pallas and Queen Adela of Vaelan wish to inform you that they’ll be away on diplomatic visits for the next week. Because you’re still seventeen, they’ve deferred the responsibility of taking care of you to the palace staff.”  
That’s a good joke. “‘Care’. Wow. Sam, tell Mother and Father… actually, don’t. Just say…”  
I put on a fake smile. I’m not sure it convinces him.  
“Tell them to take their time. Maybe stay a few more days, for fun. And you,” I say as I point at him, “You can call me Nick. Really. Please.”  
“Sir, I wouldn’t dare to do the latter. Not… not anymore.” He takes two quick steps back.  
“Your loss. It’s a nice name. And you’d say it when we were six, so why should seventeen be different?”  
I give him a parting wave. He takes a few more steps back, then relaxes his posture. He nods to himself.  
Maybe there’s hope for his self-esteem yet. After all, I’ve been working on it since we were nine.  
I keep walking and turn a corner, into the dining hall.  
One week.  
What can I do in a week?

My thoughts are cut short by someone rushing in and pulling out my chair for me.  
I couldn’t tell who, they were going too fast.  
Sarah? Oliver? Maybe Mrs. White. They have the same hair color.  
I wish I could have thanked them.

Supper is a stew, oily and rich. If this hadn’t been my food for my entire life, I’d constantly be sick. As soon as I finish the last drop, I race back to my room. People try and fail to get in a word with me. Some messages from my parents, most likely. Or maybe news about foreign relations. Nope. Not today. I have clocked out.  
I get ready for bed, slam open my door and flop onto the mattress. The overwhelming smell of sweet perfume sprayed there hits me. I crawl under the covers, eager to escape into a new dream world. Freedom for eight hours. I close my eyes and drift off almost immediately.  
I’m outside, in the city streets. I recognize the architecture. It’s pitch black, with the exception of two street lamps. Fairly cloudy. All of it is the same; it’s quit a boring setting for a dream. Yet, I can’t shake the feeling that something is different. But what? It’s just another cool night on…  
Huh. What street is this, again?  
Suddenly it hits me what’s different.  
This is a place I have never seen before.

I’ve been in the capital about fourteen hundred times, almost put on display. I had visited every bit, but this is new. Not even on the map, I gather, as I see a familiar street sign ahead, for the road perpendicular to this one.  
Ah, that’s where I am. Willow Avenue, the sign says.  
Wait. That can’t be. There’s a forest on this side of Willow Avenue.  
I look around me. Nobody? I have some questions to ask.  
No. A tall man on the bench. Was he here a minute ago? I approach him slowly, taking pauses to look around me more. His features become more clear. He has brown hair. Soft eyes. When I get there, he greets me with a hello.  
He greets me as a person. Not as a prince.  
This is the best dream ever, no matter how eerie the street thing is.  
“Who are you? Where are we?”  
“Sit down, child,” he says in a low, calm voice.  
“That doesn’t answer anything. I might wake up now just to spite you,” I say, as I definitely don’t do that. In fact, I find myself sitting down beside him.  
He looks up at the sky. I instinctively look up as well.  
It looks the same. Dark gray and cloudy. I turn to him again, puzzled.  
He plays a chord on his guitar. There’s light shining on the side of my face now; that’s curious. I glance back up again.  
Oh, my.

I see galaxies. I see fire, magic, silver, things that definitely don’t belong in the sky.  
Now that’s more like my regular dreams. Like the one where I was fencing with an egg. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever had a dream with a cohesive story.  
I look away, shaken.  
“This is what the real world looks like.”  
“Are you sure about that?”  
“Absolutely. I know the secrets of the universe, Nicholas.”  
“Okay. Where is this place? I mean, obviously in my head, but… you can’t make up settings this vivid and unfamiliar just like that.”  
“You’re right. This is the space in your mind, uncharted and unexplored. A safe place that hasn’t been located yet. Yet, it’s real.”  
Real? Why haven’t I seen it? Clearly, it isn’t here.  
“What are you talking about? Dumb it down for me. I’m a kid.”  
“I live there, in that place, not just in your head. It doesn’t have to look like a nonexistent street or a somber night. It can be anything. We can do anything.”  
“This is just getting weird.” I stand up.  
“Stay. Don’t you want to know my secrets?”  
“Are you going to harvest my organs or something? Can dream people do that?”  
I am, admittedly, a little scared.  
He pauses.  
“You have a week. In that time, you can find me and learn everything there is to know. You can run away. Sam should come, too.”  
“Bring...Sam? No, that’s too dangerous, I–”  
“–You can’t make it on your own, and you know it. Samuel has lived his life learning how to take care of you. You need him.”  
Woah. Harsh.  
“Okay. That’s not why I need him, by the way.”  
“What?”  
“Nothing. Anyway, where can I find you? How do I know you’re even a real person? The mind lies to people all the time.”  
“Ah, you are wise. Deserving of your high position. But, son, I’m not the mind. I’m like you. Go south, Nicholas, into the wilderness. That’s where you’ll find me. I’ll wait for you.”  
He sounds reassuring. Like a parent.  
The way a parent is supposed to be.

I hesitate.  
Is this right? Safe?  
It doesn’t matter if it’s safe anymore.  
“You know what, random cryptic dream guy? I don’t even care if I live or die at this point. I’m going. You win.”  
He nods.  
“All the better for Vaelan,” he says.  
I wake up.  
It’s three in the morning, so that’s fun. I try to go back to sleep, but I can’t.  
Perfect.  
I silently slip on my most durable outfit, light a lamp, and make my way to the servants’ quarters and to one bed in particular.

I tap my former best friend’s shoulder gently and whisper.  
“Sam. Can you do me a favor?”  
He wakes up, startled, and takes a moment to orient himself. He takes a look at me, hesitates, and then speaks way too enthusiastically.  
“Whatever you like, Your Excellency.”  
Wow, I hate that. It’s the least of my worries right now, though, so I ignore it. Instead I explain my situation.  
He gives me increasingly bewildered looks throughout the whole story. I finally finish. He takes a deep breath and speaks.  
“...Sir, I feel like he’s going to harvest your organs.”  
“That’s what I said!”  
“Well, I forbid you to go. I need to keep you safe. For everybody,” he says.  
I take a deep breath.  
“I’m going. The best way to keep me safe is for you to go with me. You’re a better shot with the crossbow than anyone I know, Samuel Hearth. You’re a fast runner, you’re responsible, and… I order you to come with me.”  
“Your parents overrule you,” Sam hisses.  
Ah, yes. The trump card. Parents, so powerful. There’s one thing more powerful than my parents’ ability to overrule me, though, and that’s their ability to not care about where I am or what I’m doing.  
“Extended hunting expedition. Say it’s to help me learn to survive in the wilderness. Make sure they know I requested to do this. And tell them that we’ll return if there’s the slightest bit of trouble. Listen to me, Sam. My parents do not care about me. They will let me go.”  
“Why me? There are more than two hundred others.”  
“Because, fun fact, you’re the one person I actually care about on a personal level.”  
Sam looks down.  
“I’m scared.”  
“Well, I have a sword. I think those should cancel out.”

That might be the dumbest thing I’ve ever said, and yet, it convinces him. Now I’m concerned about his judgment. We both go back to bed, and later we relay our elaborate story to the whole castle. We leave at noon. There’s a large sendoff, with trumpets and everything. Nothing will change. I wasn’t actually doing anything important before, after all.  
And we’re off. They’ve packed me the buttery and rich foods again. It doesn’t matter. Freedom is sweeter than any honey cake. I race ahead, my long raven hair out of its normal bun and streaming behind me. Sam is also behind me, regretting everything. The grass is beautiful. The few trees near the path seem to glow in the sunshine, with the thinner leaves streaming green light around them. I’ve never seen anything like it.  
“Come on, Sam! You’re free, too. We can go back to the way things were.”  
He shakes his head. “It’s not that easy. I’ve adjusted.”  
“Adjust back. Do it. I won’t tell.”  
“No.”  
“Say iiiit.”  
“Why do you even care that much?”  
“Because we’re friends. Why do you care? No one knows where we are. No one knows what we say.”  
“I don’t deserve to call you by your first name. No one does. It’s the way things are now. You’re going to be running Vaelan eventually.”  
“No. It’s the way you’ve been conditioned, but that doesn’t matter now! Say it, you coward. Scared of the law? It can’t get us here.”  
He turns away.  
“Don’t call me that, please. I’m risking my life for you right now.”  
He’s right.  
“Which is exactly why you deserve to use my first name, like a friend. You’re my equal. You can even call me a coward if you want.”  
He pauses, then chuckles.  
“You’re a coward, sir.”  
“That’s still a victory in my book.”

The trek continues. My legs begin to get tired, and the sun is quickly setting. The forest has turned to a vast prairie, and I can tell I’m beyond where I’m supposed to be.  
In the distance, I see a figure.  
A girl, doing… wow, that’s a lot of push-ups. Impressive. Yeah, she’s pretty, in a murderous kind of way. She has curly black hair, glowing skin, and she seems to be holding in a lot of anger. I relate to that part; maybe we could get along.  
She sees us, too.  
I jog up to her.  
“Leave. This is my turf,” she snaps.  
Though she uses slang, her accent is polished, like a gentlewoman. What is a noble doing out here?  
“Sorry, who are you? You’re not bowing to me, so–“  
“–Doesn’t matter who I am. You are one of the rudest people I’ve ever met, and I’ve killed at least twenty adult men,” she growls, before I could finish the sentence. I was going to say “So you don’t know who I am; this is amazing.”  
Maybe she should’ve mentioned the killing thing first. I can’t die at the hands of this random girl. If I’m dying, it’s going to be dramatically and in a battle with my arch nemesis...who is yet to be found. They’ll show up someday.  
I should explain my meaning to her. Instead, I make a questionable decision and reply with more sass.  
“Wow. Killing people. Cool and edgy. Excuse me while I worship you, goddess of cold-blooded murder.”  
She reaches for a dagger on her hip, which I did not notice before now. Well, that’s inconvenient.  
“I’m Mae. I’m sixteen. And I happen to be skilled at getting revenge.”  
“And I’m the prince of this shindig. Go ahead, if you feel like being hunted down for committing regicide would be fun. Also, for the record, thank you for not bowing to me.”

She begins to laugh, relaxing the arm which was reaching for the dagger.  
“Hey, I’m being serious.” I show her my ring with royal insignia on it. She pauses, looks at it, and keeps laughing. I don’t understand girls.  
She manages to get out some words.  
“Shindig…that’s beautiful...”  
I turn red. So that’s it. I just thought it was a cool word; what’s wrong with it?  
I push that aside for now.  
“Do you have a last name, Mae?”  
“Nope. Abandoned as a baby, all that jazz. My only guess is that my parents wanted a boy instead. You know how it is. Some dude raised me, gave me knives. He didn’t have a last name. I learned how to survive, and just in time, because he left me for dead as well when I disappointed him.”  
“Abandoned? Me too,” I say.  
“Same.” Oh, Sam’s caught up to me.  
“Wow, we are a happy little trio, aren’t we?” I snap my fingers awkwardly.  
Mae eyes me suspiciously.  
“How can a prince be abandoned?”

I pause and glare at her.  
“Lots of ways. Take Sam, we were raised as good friends. Now they have the audacity to call him my servant, tell him never to say my name again. The reason that happened was so he could transition from my best friend to a ‘peasant,’” I spit. “I haven’t had a conversation with my parents in almost a year, and when they do talk, they break me. ‘Nicholas, you know nothing,’ ‘Nicholas, you don’t need friends,’ things like that. My stomach isn’t even used to real food. You know. Emotionally abandoned.”  
By the end of that, I realize how much my volume has increased. I’m practically shouting across the field at nobody.  
Sam looks scared. Mae looks amused, how dare she, I–  
“Fine. You’ve convinced me, Royal Pain. You’ve successfully obtained enough trauma points.”  
I ball up my fists. I’m about to break the first rule of being a guy, not fighting girls. What if the hypothetical girl deserves it?  
And then Sam stops me, blocking me with his arm.

He starts to say something, but his voice wavers.  
“Aww. You’re mad at me? Is that it? Good thing your skinny boyfriend is here to stop you. Otherwise I’d be done for,” taunts Mae.  
I push his arm out of the way and storm forward. He pleads with me.  
“Nick, no. I can’t let you get hurt.”  
I gasp a little and stop in my tracks.  
“You actually said it?”  
“Yes, and now I’m telling you to stop. Please. If you got killed, I’d be put to death as well. And I’d probably feel like dying, too.”  
“Fine. Mae, we’re headed south. Maybe you’d like to join us?” My voice is strained. I didn’t have to say the last part; what have I done?  
“What’s in it for me?”  
“Official protection by a member of the Royal Family of Vaelan. And some stew that I am not having any more of today. Plus a chance to learn the secrets of the universe.”  
“Please join us, you’d be our best defender. He needs all the defense he can get,” says Sam.  
“Ooh, does Princey need bodyguards? No one in the big, bad, fancy castle taught him how to fight?”  
“I can fence,” I say, reaching for the saber sheathed on my hip.  
“You’re very bad at it.” He playfully pats my head twice like I’m a child. Well, thanks, Samuel. Is today “Ridicule The Literal Royalty” day? I’m really not even that mad. The complete disrespect is refreshing.  
“Fine. Yes. I need...protection. Even though I am arguably decent at fencing, Sam.” I can feel my face flush.  
Mae giggles. “I’ll come with you. This is the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I like watching you embarrass yourself.”  
“Great!” says Sam. He and Mae shake hands.  
“Sam Hearth. Castle attendant.”  
“Mae, but you know that. Knife aficionado.”  
I suppose I’m now the third wheel in this new friendship centered around making fun of me. 

Night falls. We share our food with Mae.  
She tastes the stew. “Woah. What’s in this?”  
Sam proudly begins listing the ingredients. “I’m glad you like it; it’s beef broth with pork, celery, tomatoes, olive oil–”  
“–I’m going to throw up. It’s well seasoned, but… no. Exactly how much oil?”  
Sam’s face falls. “I don’t know. I’m actually not the one making it. I developed the recipe, but I’m not sure they follow it. I did add cumin this time…”  
“I don’t care about cumin. Does no one in the castle eat this stuff? It’s too rich.”  
I eat quietly, watching the culinary discourse unfold.  
“You can’t just ignore the cumin, Mae,” Sam says, raising his voice. He’s normally so quiet! It’s great when he’s passionate.  
I finally speak up.  
“Sam makes an excellent point, the herbs can make the entire dish.”  
I pause smugly. No one says anything. I thought I sounded pretty smart...  
Mae breaks the silence.  
“Wait, are all of us nerds for cooking? Rad. That makes this slightly less unbearable, I guess.”  
“Sweet. When did you learn to cook?”  
Mae winces, the first time I’ve seen her show weakness.  
“...He taught me.”  
No one presses further. We enjoy the rest of the evening. This is...nice. The best night I’ve had in a while.

Later, I am the first to fall asleep. I’m half hoping I see the strange guitar man again, but I also just need a break. I get my answer when I find myself on the mind road again. I groan and jog up to the bench.  
“What do you want, guitar boy? I’m headed south. I’ve got Sam. Everything is cool.”  
The man laughs.  
“Sure. Everything is cool. I just want to tell you to... be careful who you trust.”  
I pause.  
“Mae?”  
“I didn’t name names.”  
“Wait. Sam? Hold on, this doesn’t make sense. You give me a clichéd warning and astral project yourself for funsies? I mean, neither of them could betray me. Well, Mae...”  
My voice trails off. I trust her, but should I?  
“It was a vague statement. You choose who you trust, I am simply giving you a little something. ‘For funsies.’”  
He doesn’t say anything else after that. I sit down next to him. He begins playing something on the guitar. It’s beautiful. He sings along; I’m guessing it’s his own composition. He sings it like the feelings are happening to him in the moment. Feelings of wanting something so bad that it could kill you.  
I think I just heard a line that said “It’s the end of the world.” A little ominous, but it’s okay. It’s just a dream. What’s the end of the world to me, anyway?

I wake up, comforted and yet slightly unsettled. Can I trust Mae?  
Better safe than sorry...but I’m safer with her than without her. Unless she does betray me. What should I do?  
I tell my concerns about my dream to Sam while Mae is out hunting.  
He looks at me like I’m crazy. He’s done that a lot before, but it stings more this time. He’s acting like me doubting Mae is like me personally stabbing him.  
“Please don’t kick her out. Please don’t.”  
“I’m choosing who I trust. She threatened to kill me, Sam. Why are you even so attached to her? Are you in love with her or something?”  
“No,” he whispers. “I’m not. Please stop, Nick.”  
“You are.”  
He takes a deep breath and slaps me. Hard. I stare at him. I’m not mad, but I don’t deserve that. It stings for a little while.  
“Then, why?” I say in a soft voice.  
His volume rises.  
“We can’t do this alone. We can’t make this journey alone, we’d die, you don’t understand. We need her. Wanna know something? I didn’t trust you when we were first introduced. I still tried. You need to try. I don’t care what guitar boy says. She will kill you if you kick her out–“  
“–Then so what? I’m dead, and I’d be right in my suspicions. We all die, Sam. I don’t care if I’m dead today or tomorrow or if I was never alive at all.”  
“Well, I care.”  
“I don’t feel alive. I don’t care if I die. Kill me right now. I dare you. Use those sick crossbow moves.”  
“Not this again. Please just stop. You’re doing this on purpose. You’re guilting me with your stupid suicidal drama into letting you do whatever you want.”  
“I’m not guilting– Fine. Do whatever. Keep Mae here, for my safety. Say I’m lying. I just want to protect you from her.”  
“I want to protect you from her, and from yourself. I never wanted to go on this trip. I should have made you stay home.”  
“Home? You think that place is home? Face it, Sam, I don’t have a home. I have an oversized gold-plated trash can with spikes on the inside.”  
Sam shakes his head.  
“It’s a safe trash can. You can’t die there. I can’t lose you.”  
“I already said it’s okay. Do what you want. We’ll go home fast after this. Let me think what I want. You’re free to discuss herbs with her.”  
“I will. And I’d say our friendship peaked at age nine.” He goes silent after this. So do I.  
I cross my arms and sit down, while he almost curls up into a ball.

Mae returns a few minutes after.  
“What’s up with you two? I thought you’d be all buddy-buddy. Besties. Comrades. Brethren. You’re acting like someone died. What even happened? Bad breakup?”  
“No one died,” I say, my anger towards her building up. I want to tell her exactly what I think of her. How she doesn’t know how to read the room, how she’s bloodthirsty and keeping me alive for fun, how she’s stealing my best friend.  
Woah. Now I’m glad I didn’t say that out loud.  
Sam looks like he’s about to cry, and suddenly I want to yell about hatred all over again. Not to Mae, to myself. What am I doing to him? My chest feels like it’s on fire. Tears are forming in my eyes, too. I can’t take this anymore. No, no, I can’t cry either.  
“In this family, we don’t cry, Nicholas. It’s not proper.”  
Well, Adela, it’s not proper for Mae to be so insufferable.  
“I’m gonna assume something went down,” says Mae.  
I shut my eyes tight and bite my lip so as to not let anything escape. My throat burns. I can’t let this out. I can’t be weak. Crying is the mark of a weak ruler, Nicholas, this isn’t right–  
–Mae smacks both of us on the shoulders.  
“Ugh, I’m sorry, let’s just get going.”  
I stand up and swallow. Sam stands too, his legs shaking slightly.  
“Yeah. Sure. Let’s go,” I manage to choke out. 

We walk south, slower this time. The reality of this trip has set in for all of us. Mae has picked up on how I’m not going near her anymore, not even turning to her. Sam doesn’t say a single word, politely telling me to stay silent whenever I try to start a conversation. This goes on for about three hours.  
I’m fed up with this.  
“Why are you doing this?”  
Mae steps closer to Sam. God, I hate her.  
She glares at me.  
“Uh, probably sensory overload. Jerk.”  
Oh.  
“I’m sorry. I’ll be quiet.”  
The reality of my perspective on this journey is hitting me as well. Namely, the fact that I ruin everything and I don’t deserve the one friend I’ve made in my life. I’d be better off dead. Then Sam and Mae could have the time of their lives, talking about how incompetent I was when I was alive.  
Sam speaks up a little while later. Hesitantly, I can tell.  
“I’m okay now. You can talk.”  
I take a couple of deep breaths, releasing just a bit of the tension in my muscles.  
“I’m sorry, Sam. I really don’t deserve–“  
“Nope.”  
“Okay, let me try again. I know you care about me, more than you should–“  
“No. Nicholas. You’ve talked about fixing my self esteem for the past few years, since we were kids, and I always appreciated it. But has it ever occurred to you that we might need to fix yours? One more time.”  
Wow. Okay, way to call me out like that.

I pause. Probably for too long, because Mae starts yelling at me.  
“Come on, Princey. Let me guess: No one told you how to apologize, probably because no one told you that you’d ever need to.”  
She’s right, and I hate it. How dare she be perceptive?  
“Fine. Shut up. Sam, I’m sorry I didn’t trust Mae. You care about me, and I see that now. You want to keep me safe. Thank you for that. Even when I don’t necessarily want to be alive, thanks for keeping me alive.”  
Sam nods. “Thank you. I’m sorry as well.”  
“Wait, for what?”  
“For saying you were faking what you felt. You are real and you are valid. Feel that emotion, even if I don’t like that you’re feeling it.”  
“Oh. That. I guess. But you were right.”  
“You guys are disasters,” says Mae.  
“Thank you for your input, good lady. I hate you, by the way.”  
“Cool. You’ve forgotten how many people I’ve killed,” she says, but I think I hear a hint of pain behind the words. A hesitation after the word “people”.  
“Mae!”, Sam rebukes, not seeming to notice her tone. “We have a deal.”  
“Joking, blondie.”  
Their conversations remind me a lot of the ones I used to have with Sam. I push that thought down. I’m not jealous of her! They’re becoming friends!  
It’s no use. I don’t hate her as much anymore, but I can’t help but feel that Sam is more distant from me than when the trip started.

We find ourselves at the edge of a forest. It smells of sandalwood and jasmine. Something tells me that this is where I’ll find the man with the guitar. I don’t know why I feel this way, but I trust myself.  
“Should we go in?”  
“I guess. No one’s here.”  
“No need to go in,” a low and gentle voice says, as a man emerges from behind a tree. It’s dream boy. Neat party trick, I suppose.  
“Oh. Hi! I guess you’re real, then,” chirps Sam.  
Mae screams and steps back. Complete and utter terror is in her eyes.  
“Not him. Not him. Not you. No. We have to leave. Before it’s too late.”  
I’ve never seen her scared before. It’s rather amusing. Why is she worried? The man may be tall, but he looks serene.  
“Would you like to sit down, my son?”  
“Where? A rock or something?” I look around for a boulder.  
He claps twice. Suddenly, we’re in an ornate throne room, one that rivals home. Impressive. Guards in black armor are posted around the doorways.  
“Welcome.”  
Mae looks around. She’s gone pale. I walk over to check on her. She pushes me away, hard.  
“Run,” she hisses. “Please. Let’s go.”  
She’s almost in tears. Should I be concerned?  
This is exactly what I’ve been waiting for!  
The man speaks.  
“There are a few things you need to know about this world. Sit on the throne, Nicholas. It’s like at home.”  
His voice echoes around the castle. I sit down. It’s more comfortable than I expected. I look around the room. Sam is admiring the paintings on the wall, but I can tell he’s still listening to the words of the man. Mae is staring in horror.

“What is it? Don’t leave me hanging.”  
“Well, first of all, the universe can be mastered. It only takes three lifetimes.”  
“Cool. I’m mortal. That doesn’t help me at all.”  
“I am fully capable of teaching you that part as well.”  
“Sweet. Anything else?”  
“One more thing. Trust no one, boy.” He begins walking towards me calmly.

Mae rushes forward ahead of him. She tries to knock me out of the throne.  
“What’s your problem, Mae?”  
She’s trying to take this away from me. My one goal. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted her.  
She keeps pushing.  
“Please! Run!”  
“Why?”  
The man shouts at her in a commanding voice.  
“Move aside.”  
“Dad, why?”  
“Move aside, Muffin.” He sounds annoyed.  
“Muffin?” Sam tilts his head.  
“This man made me the way I am. I can kill again; that’s how I’ve been getting by. Intimidation. I can, but...”  
“You should be thanking me then, angel, hm? Also, I see you haven’t lost the accent, by the way. You’re still my little lady, my sweet child. You can’t escape that.”  
“I’m a monster. I didn’t want to kill those people, you know.”  
“They were stopping you from becoming yourself.”

I look at both of them from the throne. Mae is directly to my right; the man is about six meters in front of me.  
“What’s going on?”  
The man speaks first.  
“I’m the Siren, here to educate you and evolve into my strongest self.”  
“He’s a sorcerer. My foster father. He trained me from my infancy. When I was fourteen, he made me kill twenty of his prisoners. He left me in the forest when I wouldn’t stab the twenty-first,” Mae says, disgusted.  
“You’re weak. You could have been great. You could have been my angel of death. You could have been my greatest weapon. Instead you chose this life, a life of feeling. You chose to be weak,” he spits, losing his soothing tone. “You would have sat on that throne. You would have been a princess.”  
“Princess? You’re a king?” Sam looks confused. “I thought Vaelan was an empire. There’s only one king for thousands of miles around, and that’s Nick’s father.”  
“Precisely why my dear Muffin here was going to help me exterminate the king and the rest of the royal family. I brought you here by speaking to you through my astral projection chamber. Now, then, I must kill you. Gently, of course. A poetic death, that’s what a prince deserves. Then your people would be too busy being sad to defend the empire. Sadness is weakness.”

He’s pacing the floor now.  
“Vaelan would prosper under me, you know. We’d have a magical golden age. We could master the elements and the stars. Nick, I’d always make sure that the royal children felt listened to,” he says.  
“P-Please don’t listen to him.”  
I glance at Mae. She’s sobbing. She’s scared.  
The Siren is calm, not even looking at her.  
I realize what this means. Three million people, real people, all my responsibility. I matter, or at least I will. The Siren would kill to be in my position.  
The Siren takes two more steps towards me.  
Mae grabs her dagger and points it at him.  
“Stay back.” Her voice wavers, but she’s stronger than she was a few seconds ago.  
Sam loads his crossbow.  
I pull out my sword.  
The Siren laughs and shakes his head.  
“Oh, children. You’re so innocent. I only wish you were a little younger, a little more open to new ideas. Alas, it’s too late for you.”

A spear appears in his hand. He throws it across the room, with deadly aim. It pierces Mae’s chest, nearly pinning her to the wall on my right. She collapses instantly.  
I try to scream, but no sound comes out.  
No. That did not just happen.  
Sam rushes up to where I am and tries to wake up Mae.  
“Come on. You can do this.”  
He shakes her shoulders.  
The Siren laughs condescendingly and clears his throat.  
“She’s not breathing, little boy. You’re wasting your time. It’s the end of the world, at least your world. ‘Fun fact’, Nick, I asked you to bring dear Mr. Hearth so he’d get to watch you die. And he’d keep you alive long enough so that I could be the one to kill you instead. Now, sweet prince, it’s your turn.”  
The end of the world.  
No. Please, not me. I always thought I wanted to die, but not like this. Mae wouldn’t want me to die at his hands.  
He runs up, kicks down Sam, wrenches Mae’s dagger out of her lifeless hands, and thrusts it into my torso. He pulls the knife out.  
I’m still conscious. It was just shallow enough for immense pain. More than I could ever imagine. Blood starts dripping from me. Tears start falling from my eyes. I try to stand up, but collapse in front of the throne. My vision is blurry.  
Sam jumps up. He shoots the Siren with his crossbow, reloads, then shoots again. One in the chest, one in the head. He tries to lift me up, drag me, but he can’t.  
“No. Please. No. Please don’t die. Someone? Nick? I love you…”  
What was that last thing?  
...Same here, but this is not the time.  
Some guards rush in from all sides to attack him. I can’t tell how many.  
He shoots two, but they’re moving too fast.  
One guard picks me up.  
Sam turns to the door, then looks back at me.  
“I’m sorry! I’ll be back, I promise.”  
He bolts for the door, and the guards all but push him out.  
The guard carries me like a sack of potatoes down to the dungeon. I am thrown down. I can feel my side slamming down into cobblestone. I hear my rib crack and faint.

I am a prince, and now I’m bleeding out on a dungeon floor.  
I wake up. It’s dark here, smelling of sickness and loss. I can feel the suffering of men that used to be here, men that Mae probably killed.  
“What even happened…?” I murmur.  
My thoughts are coming back to me. Everything has been taken away from me. That’s what happened.  
Mae. She’s gone. The vivid image of her collapsing, blood splattering just on the edge of the throne, replays. I thought I hated her, but she didn’t deserve that. She deserved to stay with us, to live, to break away from her father.  
The Siren killed his own daughter. For what? One kingdom?  
Would my parents kill me for more land?  
Hold that thought. They...both are gone.  
Oh, no, no, now I can remember–  
“Sam…” I whisper, almost too soft for myself to hear. His voice calling my name, my real name, not my title, replays in my mind. The one normal thing my parents gave me. I only pray he’ll make it back to Vaelan safely.  
No. He can’t go back. The citizens will kill him. They’ll all blame him. They’ll blame Sam for the death of a boy who never mattered or did anything in the long run, for the death of an ornament. And they’ll kill him for it. Sam, please don’t go back there. Run. Run away. I know he doesn’t know what I’m thinking, but thinking is all I can do.  
I attempt to move. I can only twitch my fingers helplessly.  
My eyes can move too. I glance around the room frantically.  
My blood is everywhere.  
There’s a single hexagonal window in the cell letting in sunlight. I can hear birds singing joyfully. Light streams in around me, ironic, because everything in my sight is becoming darker. I would appreciate the aesthetic if I wasn’t dying.  
My chest and left arm are throbbing with infinite pain. I take a deep breath, and cough. I failed.  
I’m sorry to everyone who’ll miss me, actually miss me. Not many people. Maybe just one boy.  
My sight fades to black. Black, with no stars or magic or fire, the real world, and I think I am gone. Am I? I’m still..still thinking.  
Wait. I’m just asleep. I know because Sam’s here. He appears. I see him. Very blurry, but he’s here. Is he dead, too?  
He speaks.

“I’m okay, Nick. I’m coming.”  
“What? No. You’ll get killed by the guards.”  
“Already killed the guards with my ‘sick crossbow moves’. I’m coming. I stole some bandages. Stay alive.”  
“I got stabbed, that’s gonna be hard. How are we even talking?”  
“I managed to get control of the astral projection chamber. Listen, you need to wake up. Now. Staying awake will help you stay alive. Don’t stay asleep.”  
I try my hardest. Sam disappears, and I am staring at blackness.  
Still alive, which is a plus.  
Inhale. Exhale. Pinch yourself. Slap yourself.  
It doesn’t work. I can’t move my limbs. I can’t wake up. I know I’m alive. My heart is beating, albeit weakly.  
Why can’t I wake up?

The Siren appears to me.  
No, no, not him. We got rid of him. Please don’t make me do this again.  
“This is still my castle, Nicholas. My realm. As long as you’re here, I have power over you.”  
“No. Sam will be here soon.”  
At least, I hope he’ll be.  
“Yes, but will you two make it out? Will you even make it out of the dream world yourself? I don’t have a body anymore. The last thing tying me to this world is this place. My magic books. My energy. My soul is here, Nicholas, and you won’t find it.”  
Ugh. Sorcerers are so overpowered. .  
“I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you don’t stay alive for those crucial hours, lad. Nothing personal. I can manifest using your life force once you’re gone.”  
“I didn’t go through all of this to die.”  
Well, that’s a lie. I was actually rather hoping that would happen. But I can’t. I had something to live for the whole time, I’ve just been too selfish to notice.  
“I have to wake up. I have to make sure my best friend is okay. I have to take care of Valean. I have to avenge Mae,” I say to the Siren.  
After all, I’m the leader. I’m the royalty. These are, were, will be my people until I die.  
That's why I refuse to die. This is for them.  
I wake up and see the stone brick ceiling of the cell. Freedom.  
For once, I love being awake and alive.  
I black out again within seconds. Typical. The Siren smirks back at me.  
“Sure, you ‘have’ to do those things. But can you?” he quips.  
So, I suppose this is the battle I’m fighting now. Willpower versus magic. The chaos and entropy of life versus the serenity of death.  
I’m fighting for my country, something I never thought to do before.  
Can I?  
“Of course I can.”  
Bring it on. Let the games begin. It’s nothing a prince can’t handle.


End file.
